Her beauty grew; till Autumn brought How passion rose thro' circumstantial an hour will,' grades For Eustace, when I heard his deep 'I Beyond all grades develop'd? and indeed I had not staid so long to tell you all, But while I mused came Memory with sad eyes, Breathed, like the covenant of a God, to hold From thence thro' all the worlds: but I Holding the folded annals of my youth; And while I mused, Love with knit brows rose up Full of his bliss, and following her dark eyes Felt earth as air beneath me, till I reach'd The wicket-gate, and found her standing there. went by, And with a flying finger swept my lips, And spake, 'Be wise: not easily forgiven Are those, who setting wide the doors that bar There sat we down upon a garden The secret bridal chambers of the heart, Let in the day.' Here, then, my words have end. mound, Two mutually enfolded; Love, the third, Between us, in the circle of his arms Enwound us both; and over many a range Of waning lime the gray cathedral towers, Across a hazy glimmer of the west, Reveal'd their shining windows: from them clash'd The bells; we listen'd; with the time we play'd, We spoke of other things; we coursed about The subject most at heart, more near and near, Yet might I tell of meetings, of fare wells Of that which came between, more sweet than each, In whispers, like the whispers of the leaves That tremble round a nightingale-in sighs Which perfect Joy, perplex'd for utter ance, Stole from her sister Sorrow. Might I not tell Like doves about a dovecote, wheeling Of difference, reconcilement, pledges On that veil'd picture—veil'd, for what it 'You will not, boy! you dare to answer Then there came a day His niece and said: 'My girl, I love you When Allan call'd his son, and said, 'My son : well; But if you speak with him that was my son, Or change a word with her he calls his wife, I married late, but I would wish to see In foreign lands; but for his sake I bred His daughter Dora: take her for your wife; For I have wish'd this marriage, night and day, For many years.' But William answer'd I cannot marry Dora; by my life, law.' And Dora promised, being meek. She thought, 'It cannot be my uncle's mind will change!' And sent it them by stealth, nor did they And came and said: "Where were you So Dora cast her eyes upon the ground, And answer'd softly, 'This is William's child!' 'And did I not,' said Allan, 'did I not Forbid you, Dora?' Dora said again : 'Do with me as you will, but take the child, And bless him for the sake of him that's gone!' And Allan said, 'I see it is a trick To slight it. Well-for I will take the boy; But go you hence, and never see me more.' So saying, he took the boy that cried The child once more, and sat upon the To God, that help'd her in her widowhood. mound; And made a little wreath of all the flowers That grew about, and tied it round his hat To make him pleasing in her uncle's eye. Then when the farmer pass'd into the field He spied her, and he left his men at work, And Dora said, 'My uncle took the boy; But, Mary, let me live and work with you: He says that he will never see me more.' Then answer'd Mary, 'This shall never be, That thou shouldst take my trouble on thyself: And, now I think, he shall not have the boy, For he will teach him hardness, and to slight His mother; therefore thou and I will go, And I will have my boy, and bring him home; "God bless him!" he said, "and may he never know The troubles I have gone thro'!" Then he turn'd His face and pass'd-unhappy that I am! But now, Sir, let me have my boy, for you And I will beg of him to take thee back: Will make him hard, and he will learn But if he will not take thee back again, Then thou and I will live within one house, to slight His father's memory; and take Dora back, And work for William's child, until he And let all this be as it was before.' grows Of age to help us.' So the women kiss'd Each other, and set out, and reach'd the farm. The door was off the latch: they peep'd, and saw The boy set up betwixt his grandsire's knees, Who thrust him in the hollows of his arm, And clapt him on the hands and on the cheeks, So Mary said, and Dora hid her face By Mary. There was silence in the room; And all at once the old man burst in sobs: 'I have been to blame-to blame. I have kill'd my son. I have kill'd him-but I loved him-my dear son. May God forgive me!-I have been to blame. Kiss me, my children.' Then they clung about Like one that loved him: and the lad The old man's neck, and kiss'd him many From Allan's watch, and sparkled by the And all his love came back a hundredfire. fold; Then they came in but when the boy And for three hours he sobb'd o'er Wil I spoke, while Audley feast Humm'd like a hive all round the narrow quay, That he was wrong to cross his father To Francis, with a basket on his arm, thus: To Francis just alighted from the boat, The pillar'd dusk of sounding sycamores, And cross'd the garden to the gardener's lodge, With all its casements bedded, and its walls And chimneys muffled in the leafy vine. There, on a slope of orchard, Francis laid A damask napkin wrought with horse and hound, To hear him, clapt his hand in mine and sang 'Oh! who would fight and march and countermarch, Be shot for sixpence in a battle-field, And shovell'd up into some bloody trench Where no one knows? but let me live my life. 'Oh! who would cast and balance at a desk, Perch'd like a crow upon a three-legg'd stool, Till all his juice is dried, and all his joints Are full of chalk ? but let me live my life. 'Who'd serve the state? for if I carved my name Upon the cliffs that guard my native land, I might as well have traced it in the sands; The sea wastes all : but let me live my life. 'Oh! who would love? I woo'd a woman once, But she was sharper than an eastern wind, Brought out a dusky loaf that smelt of And all my heart turn'd from her, as a The four-field system, and the price of For thou art fairer than all else that is. grain ; And struck upon the corn-laws, where we split, And came again together on the king With heated faces; till he laugh'd aloud; And, while the blackbird on the pippin hung 'Sleep, breathing health and peace upon her breast: Sleep, breathing love and trust against her lip: I go to-night: I come to-morrow morn. 'I go, but I return: I would I were The pilot of the darkness and the dream. |